


Starving to be Safe

by lady_mab



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Canon Compliant, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 05:03:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_mab/pseuds/lady_mab
Summary: Eventually, Kent sighs, his shoulders drooping. “You are, course, welcome to stay. You’ve done… great things for us. For me. And I… the least I could do to repay you would be to let you stay here. As you have been. Or… Whatever capacity you are willing.”“Huh,” Gig says, and steps away—further into the surf, until the water is up to his knees. “What would you like?”(Kent and Gig on Brighton, near the end of their year together.)





	Starving to be Safe

**Author's Note:**

  * For [caeliste (fictitiousregrets)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fictitiousregrets/gifts).



> Grab a map to see how close we really are, and pretend that I feel blessed but I know that I'm not because you're leaving//Underneath the shade of this tree, please look me in the eyes and tell me you love me because I need to hear that lie

“Ughhh I don’t know.” 

“C’mon, Gig, it will be great,” Kent says, reaching out to knock him playfully in the shoulder. “You’ve been working hard on the rink. It will be a huge success.” 

The two of them walked down the beach, the sounds of the city fading into the white noise of the ocean. Kent managed to arrange the evening under the pretense of a premature celebration of Gig’s completion of the ice skating rink. 

Their shoes are abandoned somewhere up the shore, and Gig lets his long-legged stride carry him ahead as his drone eye takes the lead. 

Kent is content to watch, hands fidgeting nervously behind his back. This is a fine enough way to spend the evening, he thinks. He had seen very little of Gig over the last few weeks, and has missed simply being in the other man’s presence. 

Sometimes the mirage will bend  _ just so_, and the way it reflects off the ocean becomes an explosion of colors—of golden and purple hues, staining the sand orange and the water silver. 

Gig moves to stand at the edge of the surf, pants rolled up to his knees, kicking at the sea foam that gets too close to him. Kent takes this image, the sound of Gig’s laughter, and lets it ease the weight in his heart.

He doesn’t even realize that he’s lost in thought, simply watching, until Gig sighs loudly and lets out his breath on a groan. 

“I’m going to miss this view,” Gig says, and something lurches inside Kent’s chest that he thought he had kept locked away. 

“You plan on leaving?”

Gig hesitates, then shrugs. He doesn’t seem to notice as Kent moves to stand next to him, focused instead on the eye drone as it dances out over the gentle waves. “I mean, I have to, right?” 

Kent has a hard time breathing, keeping his expression neutral. “You say that like I would desire anything other than you staying here.” 

The glance is quick, but enough to read the surprise. Then Gig looks away again, profile lit by the mirage, and Kent can’t stop staring. “You want me to stay?” 

“I—” he starts, then catches himself before he can correct Gig.  _ Want _ is such a small word, but it’s more than what he’s been given. Eventually, Kent sighs, his shoulders drooping. “You are, course, welcome to stay. You’ve done…  _ great_ things for us. For me. And I… the least I could do to repay you would be to let you stay here. As you have been. Or… Whatever capacity you are willing.” 

“Huh,” Gig says, and steps away—further into the surf, until the water is up to his knees. “What would you like?” 

It’s a bit of a cruel question, Kent thinks, but he can’t stop the answer that comes automatically. “Just once, Gig, I want you to look at me.” 

There’s a laugh, and his shoulders shake with the sound. But then he’s turning and the joke falls from his lips as he catches Kent’s gaze. 

And it takes a second, a very long, tense second, before something clicks in Gig’s expression. “Oh,” he says, and he doesn’t pull away as Kent closes the distance between them. 

Kent stops when they are standing toe to toe in the silt, the force of the tide pulling them back and pushing them forward in a way that they nearly lean into each other with each beat of the ocean. 

Gig doesn’t say anything. He closes his eyes, and sways in on the current, so that Kent doesn’t have to reach so far to kiss him.

It’s soft, and gentle, and patient, because Kent doesn’t want to push. He keeps his hands hovering over Gig’s chest, unwilling to find purchase, unwilling to know the response.  _ Don’t want for more_, he tells himself, because this will be enough. It has to be. 

Until a wave crashes into Gig from behind, and he jerks back with a gasp, hands landing on Kent’s hips as Kent reaches out to steady him. 

And from there, it’s so easy to kiss him again, to catch Gig’s open mouth, to let Gig pull him in, to lean into it. Kent savors the taste, tinged with sea salt—the warmth, spreading up from the hands at his waist to burn at his lungs.

Kent grips a fistful of Gig’s shirt, and the other hand goes to Gig’s cheek, the stubble beneath his palm. He stands steady in tide until he has to catch his breath. 

Gig’s forehead is pressed against his, and he uses it to focus himself, to steady himself as the axis of his world shifts. There’s a hand against the small of his back, one on his waist, a weight to keep him grounded. 

“Maybe…” Gig starts, voice stilted in the distance between them. “Maybe I’ll stick around. See what happens.” 

“I’d like that,” Kent finally says when he can trust himself to speak again. “I would like that very much.” 

**Author's Note:**

> joanie told me about a song called "kent loves gig harbor" by daphne loves derby and then we just got super emotional so here please enjoy


End file.
